Cold
by kuro-shinobi
Summary: Lovers seperated by circumstances they cannot avoid, they now seek solace from the cold. One-Shot R


A/N: Yo guyz~ I kuro-shinobi am returning with a short - as in real short one-shot. It's been in my pc for awhile and I decided to finally upload it. This was inspired by my lovely wife CrimsonINsight. I love you~ So yeah happy reading!

EDITED: 8DD Since my uke thought an iron cross would fit better instead of a glove. . .I don't know why I used a glove in the first place. . .83

Warnings: Shounen-ai and swearing

Gilbert stared out the window, gazing intently at the vast expanse of land, _his_ land. It was half-way through October and the weather's getting colder by the day.

"Is it already snowing there?" a brief thought passes his mind about an all-too familiar nation. He remembers light blond hair, blue eyes with a slightly purplish hue - staring at him as though he was seeing right to his very core, soft pink lips - lips he enjoys kissing and ones that belongs to a mouth ever so silent, milky skin...a smirk plays on his face...and of course that curl...thingy...that for some insane reason of nature, floats on it's own.

He stays there, standing beside the window, staring out as if looking for something not there. "If it is...I wonder who is keeping you warm out there."

He figures it must be that Danish bastard. His smirk fades and his brows are furrowed, his face set into a scowl. If he _dares_ to lay a hand on his lover then that _fucker 's_ a dead man.

He wishes that the blonde had just stayed here and lived with him and his _bruder_. But noooo~ Denmark just had to come and 'rescue him from the evil clutches of the Prussian', the stupid bastard.

He presses his face on the glass. Why he did, he doesn't know. He fingers a barrette in his pocket, given to him – well more specifically he took it and didn't have the heart to return it. A small smile appears on his face.

"Sir, the troops are ready." one of his soldiers breaks his train of thought.

"Alright~" he turns and dismisses the soldier with a nod and shrugs on his coat. He's going to kick those Danish shit-heads asses to the next century.

With his battle-grin in place he sets off for the door but not before ruffling his _bruder's_ hair and throwing him a quick 'See you later'. If he's lucky, he might just see that Norwegian lover of his. His grin grows wider. "Men, let's move out!"

-

Øivind (1) stares out the window, gazing intently at the vast expanse of land, _Danmark's_ land. It was half-way through October and it had begun to snow, everything was covered in it.

'I wonder what you're doing over there' a brief thought passes his mind about an all too familiar nation. He remembers platinum-gray hair, crimson eyes always filled with excitement and a hint of mischief in them, as though he knows something you don't, slightly chapped lips, lips he enjoys kissing -not that he'll ever admit to that, and lips that belong to a mouth always set to his trademark grin or a smirk and opening to the words 'I'm awesome!', pale skin and a well-built chest, which was _nice_ to be in especially in this cold.

He blushes at that sudden thought and wills it away. He finds unable to do so as he looks at his hands holding onto an iron cross belonging to that nation. He runs his fingers on it, hoping it will keep him warm like its owner did.

He stays there holding onto the cross like a life-line. "I wish....you were here instead"

"_Norge_" Danmark breaks his train of thought. "We're leaving."

He ignores the taller Nordic and focuses on the cross in his hands. '…Another battle', his mind wanders back to his lover. 'Stay safe'.

"You're coming."

Øivind's eyes grow wide as he turns to stare at the Dane. Danmark was actually letting him to come. The Nordic wasn't usually keen on bringing him to the battlefield.

"…" He stays rooted in the spot still processing the words the other has said. He then flies past a slightly bewildered Dane and goes straight to his room, quickly changing his clothes.

He was actually allowed to go out into battle. If he's lucky he just might see that Prussian lover of his, a ghost of a smile hints on his face. Glancing at himself one last time at the mirror, he slips the iron cross over his head and finally goes outside to the waiting Dane. "I'm ready."

A/N: Thanks for reading~

Reviews are loved~

(1) Øivind is Nor's human name based on an rp group I joined.

I actually whipped this up a few minutes before going to school so yeah kind of rushed it but I think it turned out okay despite that and being unbeta-ed....^-^"


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